I didn’t expect such summer storms,
lilies thrown to the ground, mulch broadcast
like gobstopper seeds; and the tall, black
aeonium broken, one of its
five laden branches hanging by a
fibrous link to its trunk. Lucifer
flashing vibrant red to meet the light
forking from awesome cloud activity
trembling in the vast variety
of thunderous expression. I didn’t
expect a carpet of fatsia
fingers, flat and rapidly loosing
turgor pressure. And I didn’t think
the Japanese anemone would
ever feel happy enough to bloom;
but between the chaos of damage
long strong blossoming stems protrude from
a plant that has finally produced
fine, broad, dark-green, healthy foliage
gorgeous in its new destination.